


Those Who Lie in my Bed are Looked Upon with Favor

by Cantabo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Merlin and Arthur are idiots, Multi, Oblivious Arthur, Oblivious Merlin, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6913351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantabo/pseuds/Cantabo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I beg your pardon?” Lance asks, once the choking has stopped. Gwen is still staring at him, but now her mouth is twitching into a smile, so it’s likely she isn’t going to yell at Merlin for his life choices.</p><p>Gwaine is still laughing. Asshole.</p><p>“We slept together. Last night at Leon’s birthday,” Merlin says.</p><p> </p><p>Or: The five times Arthur and Merlin slept together, and the one time they didn’t</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merlin doesn’t remember how it happens the first time

**Author's Note:**

> Each time will be an individual chapter. Rating Changes at the last chapter to Explicit, fair warning.

Merlin decides to tell his friends in public, at their favorite coffee shop, because they’re (hopefully) less likely to yell at him in public.

“I slept with Arthur,” Merlin says. 

A ringing silence follows Merlin’s announcement. 

And then...

There’s a choking noise from Lance, who has just taken a sip of his coffee. Gwen, who has been staring angrily at her computer, slams it shut to look at Merlin like he’s cut off an arm and is now waving it around. 

Gwaine just laughs, the asshole.

“I beg your pardon?” Lance asks, once the choking has stopped. Gwen is still staring at him, but now her mouth is twitching into a smile, so it’s likely she isn’t going to yell at Merlin for his life choices.

Gwaine is still laughing. Asshole.

“We slept together. Last night at Leon’s birthday,” Merlin says, his face carefully blank as his friends stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Okay, we’re all glad that you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, but can I ask what brought this on?” Gwaine asks, and Gwen and Lance nod their heads with such synchronicity you’d think they were twins instead of married.

“We were both drunk,” Merlin shrugs, raking a hand through his hair.

“So you don’t remember it?” Gwen asks, her hand coming up to her mouth. Lance just stares. Gwaine giggles.

“Well, I was asleep for most of it anyway, so.. no.”

Lance makes a distressed noise and rubs his temples. Gwen’s eyes widen so far that they threaten to fall directly out of her head.

Gwaine laughs so hard he falls out of his chair.

“Merlin, please tell me this was all consensual,” Lance says, and he’s turning an alarming share of red, that’s interesting. Gwaine is cackling on the floor and turning heads from the other people in the coffee shop.

“Consen- what? Sleep is always consensual… Oh- Oh no we didn’t- guys. We just slept. In the same bed. Together,” Merlin explains, slowly. His friends are idiots. 

“So, you did not have sex with Arthur then, just to be clear?” Gwen asks. Gwaine is still laughing as he pulls himself off of the floor and back into his seat.

“No, gods! We just fell asleep together!” Merlin says, putting his head in his hands, because he really could have done this better.

“You’re going to have to walk us through it. Tell us everything you remember,” Gwaine says, turning to Merlin with false seriousness. Gwen and Lance nod in agreement, however, because his friends are idiots.

“Fine. I only remember this morning anyway,” Merlin says.

-

Merlin’s head hurts. It’s pounding and threatening to implode on itself as he slowly makes his way into consciousness. He knows he’s in a bed, but beyond that, he’s sort of clueless as to how he got there. It’s not his own bed, because Merlin’s bed is a work of art, all memory foam and soft sheets and pillows everywhere, and this bed is too firm and not nearly pillowy enough to be Merlin’s.

Merlin is dragged into consciousness unwillingly. He wants to stay asleep, away from the pain his head is causing him.

There’s the sound of a sniffle, and Merlin is confused. Did he sniffle? He doesn’t remember sniffling. He doesn’t remember how he got into this mystery bed, either, though. Maybe his memory should shut up right now.

Opening his eyes is a mistake, and it immediately makes him shove his face into the pillow under his head. It’s a really shitty pillow comfort wise, but it’s warm enough that it makes up for the lack of comfort.

It’s actually a really warm pillow. What kind of pillow is this? Is it on sale at Bed Bath and Beyond? Merlin needs seven. 

There’s another sniffle, and Merlin is confused again because that wasn’t his sniffle. Is there someone else in the room with him? He’s fairly sure he’s somewhere at Leon and Arthur’s place, because that’s the last place he remembers being.

Merlin moves his head, finding a spot on the pillow that’s somehow ridiculously comfortable, and burrows his head into it.

There are arms tightening at his waist suddenly, and Merlin goes still. 

He’s in bed with someone. 

Merlin is at least sure he didn’t fuck them, because he’s still wearing the clothes he had on last night, even his shoes.

Merlin forces himself to open his eyes and sees pale smooth skin. There are arms around his waist and he’s laying half on top of whoever he’s in bed with, their legs tangled together. Merlin has one arm wrapped around their abdomen and the other tucked against his chest.

The arms are tight around his middle, keeping him in place and making it very hard to look at who he’s in bed with. They have fair skin and some chest hair, and honestly, a very nice abdomen, but that’s very unhelpful in the way of trying to find out who he’s in bed with. Merlin has a brief thought as to why they’re shirtless, but it’s out of his head as soon as the thought enters.

There’s snuffling and shifting, and it’s clear whoever he’s in bed with is waking up, so Merlin takes the chance to lift himself up and see who he’s in bed with.

He sees blue eyes looking back at him and he knows instantly.

“Morning, Arthur,” Merlin says, and his voice is a wreck, all croaky and breathy sounding. Arthur blinks at him, confused, his arms shifting around Merlin’s waist but not letting go.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks, taking a hand off Merlin to rub at his eyes. His voice sounds stuffy and his eyes are a little pink. Merlin thinks belatedly that Arthur probably forgot to take his allergy pill yesterday, because he gets stuffy like this when he doesn’t, and then he’s miserable the whole day.

“Why are we in Leon’s bed?” Merlin asks, because now that he’s looking around, this is clearly Leon’s room. There’s a picture of him and Morgana on the bedside table, standing together and smiling at some restaurant. The walls are blue instead of Arthur’s plain white ones, and the bed is awful. Merlin helped Arthur choose his mattress, he knows it’s not this uncomfortable.

“We were both really drunk last night, so there’s no telling,” Arthur says, and then he laughs a little. Merlin laughs too, because they’re in Leon’s bed, and it’s a little funny.

“Alright?” Arthur asks suddenly, moving his other arm away to sit up, and Merlin’s waist feels very cold suddenly. He blames it on the fact that they’re not using any blankets. 

“A pounding headache, but alright other than that. You?” Merlin asks, looking to Arthur who is rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. Arthur needs to remember to take his allergy pill.

“I feel like dirt,” Arthur says. 

“That’s because you didn’t take your allergy pill, idiot. Go take a hot shower,” Merlin says. Arthur rolls his eyes but nods, getting out of bed.

Merlin leaves a few minutes later, but not before making Arthur a cup of coffee and leaving his allergy pill next to the cup, with a note reminding him to take it.

-

“So, you’re telling me that after we left the party you and Arthur fell asleep in Leon’s bed?” Gwen asks, pulling her hair into a low bun. Merlin shrugs and nods. 

“Where was Leon for all this?” Lance asks.

“I guess he slept in Arthur’s bed, or went to Morgana’s,” Merlin shrugged. Leon was cool like that, plus since he and Morgana became a thing he’s been in the flat less and less.

“Gwaine, how come you didn’t realize Merlin didn’t go home last night? You’re his roommate,” Gwen asks him. He looks up from his phone and shrugs.

“Probably because I didn’t go home.”

“And where were you?” Lance asks.

“I,” He says, leaning in with the cheekiest smile anyone could manage, “finally got to see Elena’s bedroom.”

The other’s roll their eyes but congratulate him. Gwaine and Elena have been dancing around each other for weeks, both too stubborn to do anything about the other.

“Well, at least someone pulled their head out of their ass,” Gwen mutters. Lance snorts a laugh and grabs her hand. Merlin would question what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t really want to exert the energy.

He never did get around to asking why Arthur was shirtless...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm not dead! (Mostly)
> 
> So I'm going to ramble here. None of this is actually important, so if you skip over it that's cool.
> 
> This was never meant to see the light of day. I wrote this during the middle of Projectmageddon as a stress reliever (and to get out the feelings I have about Merlin). But, here we are... so.
> 
> Also, I am aware I have like 7 thousand things on hiatus, and I seriously have not forgotten about those. I am in the middle of picking them up again/rewriting them. This is just a short thing I have actually finished and I wanted to post it because why not? I actually finished something!
> 
> So, to anyone who has read all the other stuff I have posted and questioned the fragile stability of my life, I am still alive(ish) and I have not forgotten about my WIPs!
> 
> Also, yay for posting something outside of the SPN fandom! I have things written from so many other fandoms and I just haven't posted any of it so that may be how I spend Summer 2k16, because what the fuck else am I going to do?
> 
> Sorry this had almost no point, promise this is the only time in this fic I'll ramble on! :)


	2. The second time it happens, it’s an accident.

_ Bring me soup. _

Merlin stares down at his phone, confused and a little irritated. Arthur has been sending him these messages all evening, ranging from  _ bring me some Tylenol  _ to  _ I’m dying _ .

Merlin shoves his phone back in his pocket and scowls through the last ten minutes of his shift. Arthur’s either sick or he’s being a drama-queen. Either way, it’s not going to stop until Merlin shows up at his apartment.

“Bye Gaius, I’m heading out for the night,” Merlin calls, exiting the library with a scowl. Arthur has been so demanding today that Merlin hasn’t been able to get involved in a single project because his phone keeps ringing. 

Merlin refuses to turn his phone off, and hasn’t since the one time he did and Gwaine landed himself in the Emergency Room.

Merlin stops by his place to change and make Arthur some bloody soup, and ten minutes later he’s banging on Arthur and Leon’s door.

Morgana answers, which is a surprise.

“Thank fuck you’re here, he’s become insufferable. Also, he’s your problem now,” Morgana says, patting him on the cheek as she drags Leon out the door. Merlin stands in the doorway, confused, before entering. 

Arthur is sprawled across the couch, his nose bright red and the world’s largest scowl on his face.

“I have been texting you all day,” Arthur said, and he’s actually pouting, hilariously. Merlin rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen, pulling out a pot to heat the soup. He warms it up in silence, the only sounds coming from the living room are Arthur sniffling loudly and occasional muffled curses. 

Merlin has to smile, because Arthur sick is honestly one of the funniest things he’s seen. He throws a fit and whines, but the second anyone gets within a foot of him he’s latched onto them and refuses to move. It’s endearing and adorable and other things Merlin probably shouldn’t think about his best friend.

Pouring the soup into a bowl, Merlin heads back into the living room. Arthur has cocooned himself in blankets, his back to Merlin.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, picking Arthur’s head up so that Arthur can use his thigh as a pillow as he tries to spoon soup into Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur is a child about it, moving his head and petulantly pushing the spoon away with his nose whenever it gets too close. Merlin makes him sit up for that, and spoon feeds it to him while they glare at each other the entire time.

“You’re not my mom,” Arthur mutters, crossing his arms through the blankets and doubling his glare at Merlin. Merlin rolls his eyes and shoves another spoonful in his mouth in reply.

“You asked me to bring you soup, shut up,” Merlin says, and Arthur rolls his eyes but does indeed shut up, eating the rest of it and even drinking a glass of water.

When Merlin comes back from putting the dishes in the sink, Arthur is sprawled back out on the couch. 

“Arthur, you need to get in bed. You’re getting your disease everywhere,” Merlin says, tucking one of Arthur’s arms around his shoulders as they walk slowly down the hallway. Arthur doesn’t protest, which is actually cause for concern. 

Merlin lowers Arthur into his bed once they reach his room. It’s messy, which is a large indication of how awful Arthur must feel, given that it’s usually spotless.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Mmm?” Arthur asks, poking his head out of the nest he’s created to look blearily at Merlin. He looks sort of like a baby owl, and it’s hilarious enough that Merlin has to smile at him.

“Did you go to the doctor?” Merlin asks, running a hand through Arthur’s hair to smooth it down. Arthur leans into the touch, and Merlin has to smile wider at that. He’s adorable like this.

“Gwen said I got a bug,” Arthur mumbles, nuzzling his face into Merlin’s hand. That’s close enough, Gwen’s a nurse and Merlin knows how much Arthur hates doctor’s offices.

“Okay. Do you need anything?” Merlin asks, fixing the blankets around his shoulders with his free hand. 

“Stay,” Arthur says, grabbing the hand in his hair and pulling on it, so that he yanks Merlin into his bed. Merlin goes willingly,far too endeared to protest, and laughs as Arthur shifts to use Merlin’s chest as a pillow instead of the one he was just laying on. 

Merlin lays there, playing with Arthur’s hair and listening to his slightly louder than usual snoring, and stuffs down the bubble of affection that threatens to well up in his throat. Closing his eyes, Merlin decides to sleep instead of thinking about anything.

The next morning, Morgana and Leon come in to check on Arthur and find them lying like this, Merlin on his back and Arthur using his chest as a pillow. One of Merlin’s arms has found its way around Arthur’s body to wrap securely around his waist, and the other hand is still in his hair. Arthur is a leech on Merlin, his arms and legs tangled around Merlin like his life depends on it.

Leon and Morgana share a knowing look and leave ( not before Morgana take a picture on her phone, though).


	3. The third time it happens, they’re both too tired to care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey I know literally nothing about restoring books. Sorry in advance.

“Merlin.”

“Go away.”

“Merlin, if you don’t eat something I’m going to throw that book in the bathtub.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Shut up,  _ Mer _ lin. Eat something!”

“Fine!”

Merlin sighs, but wraps the book he’s been working on restoring up in tissue paper, putting it back in the thick wooden box, and sealing it shut. Arthur rolls his eyes at how ridiculously careful he’s being, but admires that Merlin cares about his job so much.

“I brought you Vietnamese food,” Arthur says, and gets a thrill out of the adorable wrinkle on Merlin’s nose that means he hates it but he’ll eat it anyway.

“Joking. Here, it’s a sub from that shop on Elm,” Arthur says, handing Merlin the sandwich and watching the small smile curve over his face. 

They eat in silence for a while, both exhausted from long days and restless nights.

“You look like shit,” Merlin says. He dips his sandwich into the obscenely large bowl of ranch he has, and Arthur shoots him a dirty look, in part for the comment and in part for the abuse of ranch dressing.

“I haven’t slept well in a week,” Arthur says, and he privately thinks that he hasn’t slept well since Merlin fell asleep in his bed when he was sick last week. It was nice, waking up to someone holding him, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

“Me either,” Merlin says, and he’s blinking slowly as he chews his sandwich, eyes threatening to close at any moment. Arthur watches Merlin, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the way his shoulders are set, defeated, like he’s already given up on consciousness.

“How long have you been awake?” Arthur asks.

Merlin sits in silence and contemplates this for a worrying amount of time. “What day is it?” He asks finally. Arthur rolls his eyes at Merlin, because if he doesn’t even know what day it is, then that’s a cause for concern.

“Once you finish that sandwich, you’re going to bed,” Arthur says, and it’s final, the way he says it. 

Merlin rolls his eyes and challenges Arthur with a look.

“Fine,  _ Mom _ , but if I go to sleep then you are too.”

“Fine,” Arthur says, because it is. He’s slept in the same bed with Merlin twice before, why should a third time make any difference?

“Fine?” Merlin questions.

“Fine,” Arthur says, and it’s final somehow. The matter feels closed and Arthur gets up from the table to walk to Merlin’s room. It’s more to prove some stubborn point at first, but then Arthur remembers that Merlin has  _ memory foam _ , and suddenly it’s because sleeping sounds really, really nice.

“Where are you going?” Merlin calls out from the living room.

“To bed,” Arthur calls back. There’s the scraping sound of the chair from the table, and Merlin is running after Arthur.

“You’re going to sleep in my bed? With me?” Merlin questions, and his voice is somewhere between confused and bewildered.

“Well I’m not sleeping on the floor,” Arthur says, opening the door to his room, rolling his eyes at the mess. Books are everywhere.  _ Everywhere. _ They’re in stacks on the floor and on the nightstands, and, gods.  _ The bookshelf _ . The bookshelf is terrifying, threatening to fall over any second or collapse in on itself from the weight of it.

Arthur pulls off his jacket and tie, setting them on top of the books on the nightstand, and begins removing his watch, leveling Merlin a look as he does. Merlin jumps like he’s snapping out of a trance, grabbing clothes off the floor and running into the bathroom.

Setting his watch on the nightstand, he removes his shoes and sits on the bed, checking his email on his phone until Merlin comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a sweatpants and a shirt with a seahorse on it.

“You’re not sleeping in slacks, Arthur,” Merlin says, going to his dresser to dig through the drawers. He pulls out a shirt and a pair of flannel pants, handing them to Arthur.

“Those should fit,” Merlin says. 

Arthur takes them and changes in the bathroom quickly. He doesn’t even try to put the shirt on, but the pants fit well enough for Arthur to be able to sleep in. He looks at himself in the mirror, suddenly self-conscious and nervous for some strange, unidentified reason. Arthur pushes the feeling away and goes back into the room.

Merlin is already in bed, staring at a book like his life depends on it. Arthur climbs in and rolls so that his back is to Merlin. 

Merlin doesn’t say anything, just stays there for a few more minutes, staring at the book, before throwing his book on the floor, turning off the lamp and whipping towards Arthur.

“Do we need to talk about this?” Merlin asked suddenly, his voice hoarse and quiet. Intimate.

Did they need to talk about it? So far Arthur has been acting on instinct, keeping feelings out of it. But even Arthur can acknowledge that things are different. Best friends don’t sleep the way Merlin and Arthur do. Best friends don’t gravitate towards each other in the night like they’re two halves of a whole. Best friends don’t hold each other like they’re magnets and simply cannot let go. Best friends don’t cuddle in their sleep like they’re in a relationship, like sleeping in such close proximity is the only way they can sleep.

It’s unnerving.

Arthur doesn’t want to talk about it, though. That’s the last thing he wants to do. He wants to run away from the idea of talking, wants to rip their mouths off and throw them away to prevent anything that might ruin this. He wants to pull Merlin to his chest, wrap his arms around Merlin and sleep. 

“Probably…” Arthur says, then pulls Merlin into his arms. Merlin goes pliantly, even snaking an arm around Arthur’s middle. They lay like this for a second, Merlin’s head in Arthur’s neck.

It’s undeniable that holding Merlin feels good. Not just in a physical way, but in a way that makes the aches in Arthur’s chest soothe.

They fall asleep like that, both hyper aware of the way they are holding each other and that this is not normal best friend behavior. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, you should leave comments so that I feel validated, because I thrive on attention. :) 
> 
> (mostly joking.)


	4. The fourth time it happens, it’s the only thing that makes things better

__

Merlin finally settles down into bed. It’s so late that it’s considered morning, and his eyes sting. He shrugs out of his jeans and yanks his shirt off, falling into bed with such exhaustion that it hurts a little when he hits the mattress. He doesn’t even know how he’ll find a way to wake up for work in three hours.

Merlin’s eyes have just closed, when he hears the doorbell. He groans and rolls over, praying it will stop.

It doesn’t.

The doorbell has been ringing for three minutes non-stop when Merlin finally pulls himself out of bed. Whoever is at his door better be dying (and thankful Gwaine is staying at Elena’s more often than not now. Gwaine is terrifying when he’s woken up). He doesn’t bother to pull on pants, just launches himself out of bed and storms towards the door.

All his anger drains out of him when he yanks the door open.

Arthur is there, soaking wet and looking pathetic in a way Merlin has never seen. His shirt is clinging to him and rainwater is dripping down his neck. Arthur’s eyes are rimmed in red and his skin is pale, much too flushed to be healthy. He’s shaking violently, huddled into himself like he can’t stand up straight.

“Arthur,  _ what happened? _ ” 

“My.. my father and I…” Arthur tried, and then looks at Merlin, terrified. He looks like he can’t make the words come out, like there’s a wall of insulation in his throat and nothing is getting through.

“Come on, come in,” Merlin says. Arthur stands there, shivering and staring at him like he’s equal parts confused and shocked. Merlin gently pulls on his shoulder and hauls him into the apartment, his own exhaustion temporarily forgotten. 

Merlin moves Arthur to the couch. Arthur sits there, hunched over, staring at Merlin’s dingy carpet. Merlin kneels down to tug off Arthur’s shoes and socks, setting them by the window so they’ll dry when the sun comes up.

Merlin gently guides Arthur off the couch and into his room, sitting Arthur on the bed. Arthur looks at Merlin as he rifles through the drawers. He doesn’t move as Merlin hands him clean clothes.

“Arthur, can I do anything?” Merlin asks instead. Arthur looks up, and something in Merlin’s throat catches.

Arthur looks so desolate. Broken in a way Merlin hasn’t seen before. His eyes are glassy and the whites look sort of dull and pink, like he’s been fussing and wiping at them a lot. His lips are set in a pout that makes Merlin’s heart clench into knots. He is the definition of heartsick in this moment.

“I don’t know why I came here, I just… The thought of going home.. I can’t.. I can’t- I-” Arthur says, his breathing getting faster and faster. Merlin panics, because if Arthur hyperventilates then Merlin is going to fall into the category of completely useless.

“Arthur, is it okay if I run you a bath?” Merlin asks. 

Arthur nods, but he holds Merlin’s hand like a vice when he moves to leave. Merlin decides leaving Arthur alone probably isn’t a great idea anyways, and guides him into the bathroom.

Merlin turns the water on, making sure it’s just the right side of warm.

“Get in,”Merlin says. Arthur blinks owlishly at him.

“Get in the bath, I’m going to make you some tea, I’ll be right back,” Merlin says, and Arthur seems to respond better to these words. Merlin leaves, rushing to turn the kettle on and fill two cups with tea bags. 

He’s back in less than a minute (he timed himself), and Arthur is in the bath, staring at his palms. Merlin goes to sit on the floor next to him, but stops when he sees the blood.

There are crescent shaped cuts all over Arthur’s palms. Merlin has seen him do this, once before in his senior year of university. He’d been so caught up in his finals he hadn’t noticed he’d had his hands in such tight fists that he’d broken skin.

Merlin grabs some bandages from the cabinet and does the same thing he did then. He washes them and bandages them. Arthur stares at him the entire time, his eyes wide but unseeing. 

Merlin sits there beside him, slowly and meticulously bandaging his palms for several minutes, and then just holding his hands, rubbing the knuckles gently.

They are in this position, not talking for almost ten minutes, before Arthur’s fingers tighten on Merlin’s. 

“Thank you,” Arthur says. Merlin squeezes his wrist gently and hands him a towel, turning away while Arthur dries himself off. He’s seen Arthur naked before, in locker rooms and that one time Morgana and Arthur got into a prank war. This time feels incredibly intimate, though. Merlin has been operating on autopilot, doing what he hopes will comfort Arthur.

“I’m going to pour you a cup of tea,” Merlin says, beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

He’s suddenly uncomfortable being in Arthur’s presence. They’ve been inseparable since they were stupid teenagers, but suddenly things are so different. It feels like Merlin can’t sleep unless he’s near Arthur. The game has changed and Merlin hasn’t been given any instructions.

Arthur meets him in there a few minutes later, his skin a normal shade once more and wearing Merlin’s favorite shirt.

“I made you some tea,” Merlin says, handing Arthur a mug. Arthur’s eyes are bloodshot as he takes the mug and drinks slowly.

“Can I stay here?” Arthur asks then, looking at Merlin. His eyes are pleading, and the only thing Merlin can do is nod his head.

As they lie in Merlin’s bed that night, there’s a ripping that goes through his chest, wanting something that he doesn’t know of so bad it keeps him up for a solid hour after Arthur has fallen asleep, holding Merlin like he’ll never let go.

 


	5. The fifth time it happens, it’s the only thing to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is being published so late, I got caught up at a concert until about twenty minutes ago. Regardless, enjoy!

“I’m looking for Merlin Emrys, I’m his emergency contact,” Arthur shouts, storming into the emergency room. Gwen is there, holding up her arms to calm him down, but there’s no stopping him. 

Arthur received a call from Excalibur Medical Center the second he stepped into his 3:00 meeting and dropped everything, taking (and overpaying for) a cab and running four blocks to get to the hospital as fast as he physically can.

“Arthur you need to sign in,” Gwen says, pulling him back with a strength Arthur wouldn’t have expected from her. He looks at her with manic eyes. She looks tired and exhausted, her purple scrubs have blood on them and Arthur is going to choose not to think about that, thanks.

“Gwen! Merlin is in the emergency room! Don’t you understand?” Arthur shouts at her, yanking his arm free. She puts her hand on her hips and glares at him.

“I do understand, Arthur, I was the one who called you, wasn’t I? If you sign in I’ll tell you what happened,” Gwen says, ever the voice of reason. Arthur sighs but gestures for her to lead the way to the nurses station. He knows she won’t let him into the E.R. until he signs in, anyways.

“There was a car accident. No serious injuries, thankfully, but Merlin was unfortunate enough to be riding on the side of the cab that the impact was on.” Gods, Merlin, why can’t he just wear armour year round? It’s looking to be the only thing that will prolong his life past his twenties.

Arthur rakes a hand through his hair as he swallows down the panic gripping his chest.

“Merlin doesn’t have any serious injuries, but he does have a head injury that we want to watch overnight. I called you instead of Gwaine because I know that when he wakes up, you’re going to be the one he wants to see.”

“He’s asleep?” Arthur chooses to address the part of her sentence that he feels he’s emotionally ready to understand.

“The painkillers we gave him for his head made him tired,” Gwen says, handing Arthur a clipboard. He dutifully scribbles all the information requested before handing the clipboard back to Gwen.

She slaps a sticker onto his chest that reads ‘visitor’ and has a smile next to it. Arthur rolls his eyes and looks at Gwen impatiently. She stares at him for a minute, imploring him to understand something she’s silently trying to communicate to him. Arthur can’t focus on her, though. Everything is so stressful and he won’t be able to calm down until he sees Merlin. Gwen seems to understand this, because she rolls her eyes as her shoulders deflate.

“Room 2309,” She sighs, pointing down the hallway behind Arthur. He smiles at her, kisses her cheek, and is off running. 

It takes him a few minutes to find the room, and when he does, he’s gasping for breath. Running up the stairs may have been a mistake, Arthur acknowledges. He doesn’t care much, though.

Merlin has a large bandage on the right side of his head, and a nasty scrape up his cheek. He’s got bags under his eyes and a bruise on his chin. 

Arthur is so viciously happy to see him alive that he feels his eyes water up in what Arthur chooses to believe is only relief. He’s standing in the doorway for longer than he think he probably should be, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Suddenly, though, Arthur is next to Merlin, yanking a chair up to the bed so he can stare at Merlin, willing his awake simply with the force of his gaze.

Between one point and the next, Arthur’s suddenly exhausted and he’s leaning his head down onto the bed without even realizing it. 

He figures he can just take a little nap, seeing as how Merlin is asleep anyways, and Arthur has nothing to do but sit there until he’s awake. Sleeping seems like a good idea, something that will ease the anxiety threatening to drown Arthur.

What feels like minutes later, it’s the lightest squeeze on his hand that wakes him up. Merlin is awake, looking at him with his blue eyes and a confused expression.

“Arthur? What happened?” Merlin asks, his hand coming up to touch his head. Arthur catches his hand before he can and loops their fingers together. It makes Arthur feel better both to touch Merlin and because Merlin can’t bother his bandage. 

“You got into a car accident. By the way you’re not allowed to get into cars anymore. You have to walk everywhere and Percy will escort you,” Arthur informs him primly. Merlin scoffs as he shifts in bed.

“My head is killing me,” Merlin says quietly, blinking multiple times. Arthur can tell the blinking means he should get Gwen. He stands, letting his fingers slide out of Merlin’s.

There’s a grip on his hand before he can step away fully, though. Merlin is pulling him back with almost no force, but Arthur caves and sits back down like he was pulled by an immeasurable force. 

“Arthur,” Merlin says, and his eyes are blue and glassy. He looks so raw in that moment that Arthur is rendered speechless, and he has the terrifying though that he would say yes to absolutely anything that was asked of him in that moment.

“Thank you, for being here. I just… I-” Merlin says, cutting himself off. He swallows his words down and sort of gapes at Arthur, which would look hilarious if Arthur wasn’t sure he was making the same face back at him.

“Merlin, I will always come when you need me,” Arthur whispers. 

Everything is too much. Too much. Arthur is drowning and he’s not sure if he should fight it anymore. Suddenly his walls are caving in and he needs to be outside of this room, these suffocating walls.

He’s up and out of the room a second after that, his chest caving in and his world shifting around him. If he takes a full minute in the hallway to pull himself together before looking for Gwen, no one needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE RATING WILL CHANGE TO EXPLICIT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. You have been warned.


	6. The first time it doesn’t happen, they’re too frustrated to do anything else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating has changed.

They’re watching Zathura, of all things, when the fight breaks out.

Well, they’re  _ supposed _ to be watching Zathura. What’s actually happening to Merlin is that he’s slowly spiraling into the depths of his mind trying to solve a problem.

Well, there is a problem in some sense, but not like a prevalent, must-be-solved-right-away type problem. It’s more like the type of problem that nags at the back of Merlin’s mind until suddenly it’s consuming all of his thoughts and he can’t focus on anything.

The actual problem is sitting an inch to his right, shoveling popcorn into his mouth and staring at the screen with wide, glassy eyes. It should be a hilarious sight, and any other time Merlin would be secretly snapchatting this.

However, all he can think about is what’s changed between him and Arthur. It’s not just that they keep waking up next to each other. It’s that they keep gravitating towards each other without realizing it, like now. Merlin sleeps like hell unless Arthur is there now, and it’s ridiculous. Ludicrous. Completely absurd that Merlin wakes up with his arms outstretched now, like he’s been searching in his sleep for a specific person.

Even now, Merlin purposefully sat a foot away from Arthur on the couch when the movie started, but somehow, before Dax Shepard has even showed up, Merlin is pressed up against Arthur’s side, his arm making room for Arthur’s ridiculous shoulders. Merlin has no memory of losing that foot of safe ground between them, but suddenly it’s gone and the fact that he did it without realizing it is turning Merlin into a pile of anxiety and hyper-awareness of Arthur’s presence.

“Merlin, are you even watching?” Arthur asks, shaking Merlin out of his thoughts. Merlin has no idea that Arthur had even begun speaking, and he instantly feels bad that he ignored Arthur because of his own thought process.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Merlin says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Arthur turns to look at Merlin, his eyes somehow still an iridescent blue in the dark room. 

“What could you possibly be distracted by? This movie is what built childhoods,” Arthur says, gesturing at the screen in the darkness.

“Nothing,” Merlin says quickly, because Arthur doesn’t need to know that Merlin was thinking about sleeping platonically with him. Arthur’s face instantly closes off, and Merlin knows that whatever is said next is not going to go over well.

“If you don’t want to be here then just go,” Arthur snaps, sinking back into the couch with a resolute face. It signals Arthur’s stubborn streak coming out to play.  Merlin internally sighs, because this is going to get ugly.

“Arthur, you’re being irrational. Just because I zoned out doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here,” Merlin reasons. Arthur is having no voice of reason, however.

“Merlin, I don’t understand you. One minute you’re ignoring me and then the next minute you’re insulting me!” Which, what? Arthur has gone from completely calm to being livid and Merlin has no idea how they got here, but it’s infuriating to be on the end of this.

Merlin has never been so frustrated in his entire life. He realizes logically that this is ridiculous, but in this current moment in time, he’s about ready to rip his hair out and scream obscenities for the next few years.

“What is wrong with you?” Merlin shouts, standing up from the couch to face Arthur. Arthur is up a moment later, right in Merlin’s eyeline.

“What’s wrong with me?  _ Me?” _ Arthur shouts back.

They stare at eachother for a second, both of them red in the face with misdirected anger and frustration. They’re on the edge of something, Merlin can feel it. 

Arthur shoves him back down on the couch, hard. Merlin’s head hits the back of it, and he gasps in surprise as Arthur sits fully on his lap.

“You drive me crazy,” Arthur hisses into Merlin’s ear. 

Merlin’s hands tighten on Arthur’s hips and  _ oh when did his hands get there _ ? Arthur leans back enough to look into Merlin’s eyes and they stare for a split second, both of them lost in whatever it is they’re about to do before Merlin is breaking to pull Arthur closer into him.

Their lips crash together and it’s anything but graceful and sweet. It’s angry and violent for no reason other than their own frustration. Merlin can’t tell whether this sudden frustration is directed at him or at Arthur but either way it’s all bubbling up and overflowing and Merlin is drowning in Arthur and is perfectly fine with it. They’re kissing like they fight, asserting their aggression by trying to out-do each other.

Arthur’s hands are in Merlin’s hair and they’re pulling and Merlin did not realize how okay he was with that until Arthur just did it, because he’s halfway hard all of a sudden and he has to break away to moan. Arthur must enjoy something Merlin’s done, because he’s grinding down against Merlin and making breathy noises into Merlin’s ear that go straight to his cock.

Arthur pulls away to look at Merlin, still grinding against him. He’s slowing down from a hard, desperate grind to something that Merlin can only think of as teasing. That’s fitting, because of course Arthur would be a tease when he makes out with someone. That’s so Arthur it makes this indescribable feeling blossom in his chest and all Merlin can do it unclench his hands from Arthur’s hips to desperately grab at his shoulders, trying to pull Arthur back to him.

“Mer- Merlin,” Arthur whines, refusing to go where Merlin’s hands direct him. He puts his head next to Merlin’s, so he can talk directly into Merlin’s ear.

“Tell me... I- ugh,  _ yes _ , I- I… Tell me. Tell me you want this,” He’s pleading. His words are just arrows through Merlin’s chest, turning him to stone and waking him up simultaneously. He’s still pulling on Merlin’s hair, making his focus hazy at best, and he just wants to grab Arthur’s ass and make him keep pulling on his hair forever.

“Arthur, please,” Merlin gets out, and that’s all he can get out before Arthur’s mouth is back on his. It’s different, now though. It’s as if Merlin’s consent has taken all the desperation out of Arthur. 

His lips are less of a force of nature and more like a puzzle piece fitting into place, making the whole picture complete as he bites Merlin’s lower lip. He’s still sinfully grinding down onto Merlin, each thrust of his hips testing Merlin’s self control. 

“Arthur, can I?” Merlin asks, his hand hovering over Arthur’s zipper. Arthur is nodding, trying his hardest not to break his contact with Merlin at all as he does so.

Merlin is unzipping his pants, pulling Arthur out of them. Arthur is thicker than Merlin thought he would be (who is Merlin kidding of course he thought about Arthur’s cock), heavy in his hand and so perfect. The noise Arthur makes in Merlin’s ear is almost enough to finish him right then and there. He’s a mess on top of Merlin, and Merlin can’t get enough. 

He strokes Arthur from base to tip, just to see what happens, the result is so intoxicating. 

Arthur’s hips are stuttering forward as his hands pull Merlin’s hair. He rubs his thumb under the head and gets to hear the moan of appreciation Arthur makes, the noise just building Merlin up even more. 

He settles for a mix of the two, twisting his wrist every once in awhile to wring a whine out of Arthur, each more frantic than the last. Arthur’s grinding hasn’t stopped, and Merlin’s to the point where he’s right on the edge, focusing on keeping Arthur right on the brink of coming without tipping his over.

“Merlin,” Arthur hisses, and it’s so filthy and it just does Merlin in, he tightens his grip on Arthur as waves of pleasure rock through him, and he’s aware that Arthur is writhing in his grasp, moaning as he rocks into Merlin’s grip, and the Arthur is right there with Merlin, both of them a wreck on Arthur's couch as Merlin rocks Arthur through aftershocks. He knows somewhere in his mind that his jeans and shirt are going to need to be washed, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Arthur breathes into Merlin’s neck for a minute, panting as he runs his hands through Merlin’s hair. It’s so comforting, a soothing force against all of the frustration that was just between them.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep,” Arthur says, just as Merlin’s eyes start to droop.

“Why would you say such blasphemous things?” Merlin mumbles into Arthur’s neck.

“You’re right, forgive me,” Arthur says, a smile playing on his lips.

Thirty minutes later, after a quick detour to the shower, they’re both in Arthur’s bed. Merlin and Arthur are wrapped around each other, Merlin’s head shoved in the space by Arthur’s neck, resting on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe that we were the last ones to figure out our feelings,” Arthur says suddenly. Merlin blinks sleepily, because he’d been mostly asleep when Arthur said this.

“What do you mean?” Merlin asks.

“It’s just that, a lot of vague things Gwen and Leon have said before suddenly makes sense,” Arthur says, and now that Merlin thinks about it, Arthur’s right. Gwen and Lance have been saying odd, vague things to him for weeks now, none of it making any sense until now.

“Damnit,” Merlin says, realization making him feel incredibly foolish.

“We’re not good at this, are we?” Arthur asks, craning his neck to look down at Merlin.

“No, not at all. We’re utter shit at it,” Merlin says, and Arthur laughs as he presses his lips to Merlin’s. Everything feels okay, and Merlin smiles as he wraps an arm around Arthur’s middle, kissing him like he never intends to stop.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is appreciated! Hope you guys enjoyed.


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